What a humiliating day it has been!
Last night I could not stand the sight of those sympathetic eyes of the inn keeper and her brood. So I decided I would pass the hours until they dropped off to sleep with Tel. To him I could whisper my problems in Dunmeri.
And what a confidant he was! He burbled and murmured at me in response, sympathetically cooing at me when I felt the most downtrodden. I fed him treats of dried fruits and a baked potato. I ended up sleeping sitting up against his warm side.
I woke just before dawn and went back to the river to freshen myself up. I returned to the room and combed out my hair and rearranged it. I dressed in a new clean tunic. Then I headed to the tavern to get breakfast.
Once there I got into a discussion with an Argonian woman. She ended up betting me I couldn’t out-drink a Nord who was already half a pint from unconscious. Normally I wouldn’t have taken her up on the bet, one that sounds too good to be true always is. But what did I have to lose?
It passed the time getting that drunk. The guy even challenged me to a fist fight. Not that he could even stand on his own feet by that time. It was easy money from both sides. The fetching woman tried to take my purse after that! Suddenly the easy bet made sense. A blade under her chin stopped her hand well enough.
At any rate, I decided to drink more after that. Probably not the best idea, but I did. I sought out the companions and they convinced me that I should sing to get my husband back. I managed to be convinced enough to take my lute and go to the front of the Bosmer’s shop.
I am loathe to even repeat the events that transpired.
I played a Dunmeri love song I had written for Nabine. I played it with real emotion, perhaps something else I should not have done. I never got to see what the reception was, however, because my gift, although not at its height, was enough to attract every easily swayed individual within earshot. The crowd that gathered, small though it may have been, prevented me from reaching the shop. I had to stop. Too many grabbing hands. Too many forcible offers.
My savior from all of this, the one who prevented things from going any further? That fetching guardsman! As if I needed to owe him anything! He took me back to the Companions and stayed with me, praising my voice and asking if I would not consider his earlier offer.
Though I many times told him I had found my husband and that was who I had played for, he brushed it aside as my playing coy. My damnable gift is too unpredictable when its powers are low like this. My emotional state and the alcohol clearly muddled my true intentions. What a fetching mess!
It took the whole rest of day to extricate the guard from my presence. I shall go back to the shop tomorrow. Sober.